The Best Kind of Lie
by raglanwriter
Summary: Inspired by spoilers for the Season 4 finale...that's all I'm going to say. If you haven't read the spoilers, you might want to avoid this story too since it will pretty much give them away. Written from Brennan's POV.
1. Chapter 1

**The Best Kind of Lie**

Disclaimer: I don't own Brennan and Booth…sad, but true.

Author's Note: So this is my take on the giant spoiler for the season finale…and the potential aftermath- which I don't think necessarily has to be bad. The title of this story will not make sense until after the next installment. I had no intention of posting anything else so soon, but this one came to me and I had to write it down!! I'll try to work on Chapter 2 relatively quickly if feedback is good! Hope you enjoy this one! And bonus points if you can guess the song referenced in this chapter.

Chapter One: To End One Journey and Begin Another

I answer my door to find Booth standing in the hallway with an expectant smile on his face. Although I have not been anticipating his arrival, I am not surprised to see him there- his presence is so familiar to me now that it is never an intrusion. I feel myself smile in return, happy to see him for no rational reason that I could describe. The last few weeks had been difficult and being with my partner always makes me feel more confident in my ability to get through things. It is something I cannot explain and try not to think about too much since I get uncomfortable with experiences that I do not really understand. Stepping aside, I usher Booth into my apartment and smile again as the smells of takeout from our favourite Thai restaurant drift into the apartment with him.

"I come bearing gifts Bones," his tone is typically jovial.

"I know- it's the only reason I let you in," I joke back, enjoying my growing ability to enter into this lighthearted banter with him. He grins at me and makes his way into the kitchen. I follow along behind him and watch as he gathers plates and cutlery from my cabinets- wondering if I should be amused or alarmed that he knows where to find everything.

"A little help here Bones?" Booth raises his eyebrows to indicate that I should carry the dishes into the living room while he grabs the food containers. It is a routine we have fallen into so easily that I have never even really questioned it. I already know my role in this unfolding of events. Soon, we will be arguing about whether to watch a documentary or a hockey game- and eventually I will let him win just to see the unrestrained joy he takes in explaining sports to me. Really, we both win. As I follow him towards the couch, I am already smiling.

After carefully distributing the food between our plates, Booth reclines back into the cushions and is, as usual, stealing bites of my favourite dishes which he claims not to like. It is all part of the same scene we play out so often and I indulgently glare at him because I know my cues. His look of feigned innocence is not new to me either, but I still find it endearing and cannot help but admit that his eyes are magnetic to me when they soften with that gentle teasing glow. Once we are done eating, I gather up the remains of our feast and head into the kitchen to dispose of everything. When I return to the living room, I expect to see Booth flipping through channels on the television but he surprises me. Instead of staring at the screen, he is standing in front of the stereo and has obviously pressed play on the random CD changer. I stop in the doorway, suddenly unsure of how to proceed now that the convention has been altered. I listen to the words of the song drifting past my ears and recognize it immediately. It is a song that often reminds me of Booth when I hear it- the powerful melody from a band introduced to me by a Canadian friend from grad school.

Booth turns to see me standing in the doorway and tilts his head to one side as if to ask me what I am doing. I find myself strangely nervous as I take another step into the room- I am not good at adjusting to changes in my patterns. He must sense my uncertainty because he sends me a patented charm smile and flings himself back on the couch.

"I thought maybe we could just spend some time talking tonight Bones," his voice is light as if to deliberately reassure me that there is nothing sinister in his decision to play music instead of fight about television. "I just wanted some background noise- I hope you don't mind."

"No, of course not," I feel safe enough now to return to my spot beside him.

"I've never heard of this band- but the guy has a great voice," he is making small talk now to further ease my anxiety. For a moment, I am transported back to a memory from earlier in our friendship. Sitting in the diner after my father helped me save him, singing the lyrics from an old Poco song together. The recollection of his willingness to sing along still brings forth a rush of affection for him. I was amazed that he knew the song, but I should not have been- we seem to know things about each other instinctively as if life has been quietly leading us towards each other all along.

"This song reminds me of you for some reason," I don't know why I just admitted that, but it was out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

"Really? I didn't really catch all the words…something about having my back to the wall and let myself fall. Is that what reminds you of me?" He is still kidding around.

"It's not just the words themselves, but more the feeling behind the song and the emotion in the voice, I guess," it is a struggle to explain myself. Non-scientific reactions are never easy for me to summarize in words.

Booth listens intently for a moment and when the chorus begins, I see something change in his face. I wonder if he is thinking about the particular words "Why I ran away from you lover" and considering the idea that this song reminds me of him. The music is filling the room around us and when the final notes begin to fade, he is still watching me. I stand up and turn the volume down on the stereo so the music is not such a presence in the room. I know there are other songs in this selection of discs that will cause me to pause awkwardly if he notices them. Sometimes the music we listen to, like the words we write, exposes more about us than we are comfortable revealing. I settle myself on the couch again and smile towards him, hoping to break the slightly peculiar feeling in the room.

"So," I begin, "is there something specific you wanted to talk about?"

"Well, I just this week has been busy and difficult. I figured we needed to take a few minutes to catch up with each other." I think I know what he wants to talk about, despite his not indicating anything specific. Earlier this week I entered the SUV to find him on the phone, engaged in a very serious conversation with someone. I let me mind drift back to recall the side of the dialogue that I had overheard.

_He lifted his hand in greeting as I hopped into the passenger seat, but was clearly distracted by whatever was being said to him from the other end of the phone line._

"_Yes sir, I know that." I had assumed that he was talking to someone at the FBI when he used the formality, but something about his tone was not right. Usually when he spoke to one of his professional supervisors there was an undercurrent of hostility to his voice. His reply to this person sounded less derogatory and more timid- very unlike him._

"_No sir, it was not my fault. I tried to help him but the navy is not interested in suggestions from his FBI agent brother." There was a pause in the conversation as Booth listened. Then he spoke again, with a sigh of resignation. "Yes, of course I can try something else. I know I should not have let him get into trouble. I'll figure something out, sir."_

_As Booth hung up from the call, I had my suspicions about who he had been talking to, but I remained silent. He had not offered up any explanation, merely tossed the phone into the back seat and gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. He had taken several deep breaths before he finally turned to look at me. Whatever he had been feeling was quickly camouflaged by a smile, and he pulled out of the parking space while briefing me on the scene we were headed out to examine._

I blinked my eyes to clear the memory and realized that I had not responded to his request to talk.

"That sounds good Booth." My head nods as I speak. There is no immediate reply and I sit with him in a companionable quietness. I will wait for him to say what he needs to say. At last, he shifts so that his back is against the arm of the couch and we are face to face.

"My dad called me this week." So, I was right in my speculations about who was on the phone that day. "He wanted to know what I was doing to help Jared since it was me who got him into trouble in the first place."

I open my mouth to protest, but Booth shakes his head, "No, don't even start- it was not your fault. You asked Jared for help and he decided to give it to you."

"But it isn't your fault either Booth!! I cannot believe that your father could even try to blame you for this! Doesn't he know what was going on? Does he understand that we had to save you?"

"He knows…but he has a knack of finding a way to blame me for most things that happen to Jared. It's just how it is." Booth gives a rueful smile.

"Well, it shouldn't be that way. He's your father- he should love you and be proud of you. He should also be glad you're alive considering the circumstances!" I feel my chest tighten with anger towards Booth father.

"It's okay Bones, I'm used to it. Ever since we were kids, my dad expected me to protect Jared and I just knew that was the deal. When my dad would drink, I'd make sure Jared was safe in our room and then I'd take the heat you know, so I guess it just became a pattern." Booth's voice is suddenly sad at the memory of a childhood scarred by alcoholism and anger. "Nothing I did was ever good enough and it still isn't. My father taught me that nobody just accepts you as you are- there are always expectations and we always disappoint each other."

I find myself reaching across the space between us and taking his hand in mine. My heart has clenched with the unfairness of this- that this wonderful man would think less of himself because of someone else's drunken ramblings and twisted perspective. It hurts me to see him doubt himself.

"I accept you as you are Booth and you have never disappointed me," my voice is soft and serious- I want him to know I am being truthful with him.

"That is why you are so incredibly special to me," he does not hesitate with his answer. His fingers tighten around mine and I feel something change between us in that instant. We have made a confession of sorts to each other and the honesty of the moment has caught us both off guard. I find myself unable to stop my fingers from intertwining with his and he glances down to watch our hands lace inside each other.

When he looks back up at me, I see something in his eyes that I have seen before, but always try to ignore- a shifting of colour and shadow that reveals more about his feelings for me than words ever could. Most often, I turn away when he looks at me like that, but for some reason I can't do that this time. I realize that I am not afraid. Inexplicably I feel like I have reached the end of a journey and am now at a destination that I was always seeking but did not know the name of. This is the place- he is the place. There is barely any distance between us now and I can see a question in his eyes. He looks carefully, searching my face for a reflection back of the same emotion and I am sure he finds it. In response I angle my chin up towards him, allowing my lips to part slightly, and my fingers caress his collarbone and wander up his neck to rest on his cheek. Booth's eyes close and he turns his head to place a moist kiss on the palm of my hand. I let out a breathe I was not even aware that I have been holding and lean slightly forward towards him. I feel his hand slide up my thigh to rest against my hip and I hear the murmur of approval that escapes my throat when his thumb brushes across the bare skin above my waistband.

When Booth returns his gaze to me, his eyes have become even darker and as he leans towards me, I find I cannot look anywhere but into their depths. Finally as his lips brush against mine, my lids drop closed allowing my body to focus on the sensations of a soft kiss. It is not exactly as I would have imagined it, and it is definitely not like any other kiss I've ever had. I feel like our lips are merely a physical manifestation of a bond that runs so deeply between us that this moment was inevitable. There is so much being exchanged in this meeting of our lips that it is indescribable.

After a moment, Booth pulls away from me and rests his forehead against mine. I can see that he is as deeply affected by this moment as I am. Already I miss the warmth of his mouth and am eager to reinitiate the connection, but the words he says with his next breath stop me in mid motion.

"Temperance, I need you," Booth voice is full of undisguised yearning and the force of his words stuns me. He wants to make sure I know that this is more than a physical reaction to hormones and proximity. This is an expression of something so pure that there will be no hiding from it after the fact. I realize that our breathing has become heavy and the space between us is hot with the expelled air. He knows as I do that if we take one more step, there will be no going back- our relationship will be forever changed. My next words will seal our fate and I look into his eyes when I reply so he knows that I do not harbour any doubt about the path I am choosing for both of us.

"And I need you." The words are barely out of my mouth before his lips descend on me again. His kiss is still gentle, but I can feel the passion behind it and know that we are about to tumble over the edge into an unexplored and explosive abyss. As I pull him closer and increase the friction between us, I feel myself falling backwards into the cushions of the couch. When his lips slide down my throat and his tongue darts out to taste my skin, I lose all sense of gravity and time. There is nothing but this and I would not turn back now if I could- this is what I want and I allow myself to become lost in him.


	2. Chapter 2 Grateful for the Lie

The Best Kind of Lie

Author's Note: Some of this may seem slightly out of character for Brennan, but I would like to see something like this as the next stage of her character development so I wrote it the way I would like to see it unfold! I think I have a third chapter to this already forming in my head so I'll do my best to actually put it down in words soon! Hope you enjoy the second chapter!

Chapter Two: Grateful for the Lie

The next morning I am awakened by a weak glow of sunlight that is edging over the horizon and seeping through my bedroom curtains. I am wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and feel like I am sliding out of the deepest, most peaceful sleep I have ever experienced. It takes me a second to realize why I feel so warm and sated- but then I pull myself more fully into consciousness and feel his arm wrapped around me. The cocoon of warmth and contentment is being formed by a tangle of blankets and Booth. We are pressed together down the entire length of our bodies- I can feel his chest behind my shoulders, his legs entwined with mine, and the soft heat of his breath across my temple. One of his hands is tucked up between my breasts and the other is somewhere beneath the pillow on which my head is resting. My own hands are holding his arm that is encircling my waist- I flex my fingers lightly to make sure his flesh is real and this is not a dream. The pressure from my fingertips causes him to stir and pull me closer to him. This is definitely not my imagination- last night really happened and Booth and I are really here, waking up in my bed together.

Suddenly, I realize that I am smiling- well, not smiling so much as beaming. I pause for a moment to think about this situation and realize that I have never woken up and been so completely happy in my entire life. Then without even thinking about it, I am giggling silently to myself as I let this whole moment sink in. I am lying here, wrapped in the arms of a wonderful man who is the first person I have ever trusted with my whole being, and it feels so good I cannot contain the elation and it just bubbles out of me in a series of quiet hiccups of laughter that cause my shoulders to shake. I feel Booth shift again and know that I have awakened him. The pattern of his breathing changes, but he remains silent. His muscles have tensed and I can feel rigidity in his embrace that was not present when he slept. He is completely still and it occurs to me why he has reacted this way. Booth thinks I am crying- the shaking of my shoulders must seem like sobs because he cannot see my face. Then I fully comprehend why he is so motionless. He is bracing himself, thinking that I am about to bolt from his arms making excuses about how this was all a mistake. Not wanting him to think that a second longer, I twist myself around so that we are face to face and he can see the happiness in my eyes.

When I first turn to him, Booth pulls back as if preparing himself for what he assumes will be some kind of patented Brennan flight from an emotionally significant experience. His face is already set in preparation for this predicted escape attempt. I watch as he looks at me and sees the complete opposite of what he expected. Instead of breaking free of his arms, I snuggle closer to him and place a soft kiss on his chest.

"Good morning," I whisper against his skin.

"Good morning," he kisses the top of my head as he speaks.

For a long moment, there are no other words spoken as I turn my face up to kiss him fully and further reassure him of my reactions to what has happened between us. When our lips part, Booth pulls me tight against him and buries his face in my hair. I allow myself to cling to him and almost instantaneously, I feel desire start to spread through my body. My breath rushes out in a heated sigh when his fingers trace my spine and I find myself arching into him as if there is a way to be closer than skin to skin. I realize that I finally understand what Booth meant about 'becoming one' with someone- this is how that happens. I hear a low chuckle in his throat and pull away slightly to look at him. His smile is gentle and he leans forward to kiss my nose playfully before he replies to my inquisitive look.

"I was so afraid you wouldn't be here when I woke up," he confesses.

"Did you think it was all a dream?" I tease back.

"No- I laid awake for over an hour last night, watching you sleep just to convince myself it was all real." I find myself slightly overcome by his declaration. I don't think any other man has ever cared enough about me to watch me sleep. I blink back a sudden wetness in my eyes to listen to him continue. "Are you glad it was real?"

"Yes- I'm glad. No regrets," I do not hesitate with my answer. "You thought I'd run didn't you?"

"Honestly, yeah, I did. I mean, I know you and I figured this might be too much for you to compartmentalize." His tone is cautious and I know he is scared that I might actually try to convince him that I _can_ compartmentalize this. He is still worried that, in my own way, I will flee.

"I don't want to compartmentalize this, Booth." I take his hand and place it on my chest so he can feel my heartbeat. Even as I begin to speak again, I can hardly believe I am about to say something completely unscientific and illogical, but I plunge ahead because Booth has made me reconsider what is possible. "You are a part of me and there is no way I could disconnect from you and from what we have become to each other."

"And what exactly have we become to each other?" He asks the question while staring down at his own hand resting against my skin.

"You are my best friend," I see doubt cloud his eyes again so I rush to continue, "and I think that you may have finally provided me with the proof I need to believe that love can be real."

I watch him processing what I have just said and trying to decide if I mean what he thinks I mean. His eyes search mine and I hope he can see the sentiment behind my words. I want him to know the whole truth about this.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Well, if you think that I am saying that I'm in love with you, then yes, I'm saying what you think I'm saying," I find the uncontrollable grin spreading across my face again as I say the words.

"You're in love with me?" Booth's voice is full of wonderment.

"Really, really in love with you," I giggle. Then I am laughing again and cannot believe how much joy I feel at saying those words to him.

"I'm in love with you too." Then he is laughing along with me, "Really, really in love with you."

Our laughter is cut off as I press my lips against his again and try to relay how much love I have for him through a kiss. The yearning that flickered moments ago is now fully alight and I shift in order gain better access to his mouth. The lightheartedness of the moment evaporates in a rush of desire as I feel his hands grasp my waist and pull me against him so I can feel the extent of his own need. I break away from the kiss and move to straddle his hips where I can press myself against him. His eyes close in response to the friction and I am inwardly satisfied to hear his breathing become shallow and rasping. This will be different than last night- I want to take the time today to memorize his skin, to know every nuance of his body, and to understand each response he makes to my touch. It is clear that he too wants to move at a different pace this morning and our love making is almost torturously slow- but it a glorious kind of torture.

It is afternoon when I wake up again and I am slightly disappointed to find myself alone in bed. I hear Booth moving around in the kitchen and the smell of toast is drifting down the hall. I slide out of bed and, indulging in a moment of uncharacteristically romantic sentiment, I wrap myself in Booth's discarded shirt and wander out to find him. I lean against the kitchen doorframe and watch as he fills a mug of coffee at the sink. I assume he does not realize I am there, but I should know by now that we can sense each other's approach. When he turns toward me I see he is holding two cups of coffee and he extends one to me. I accept the offering and return his smile. As we move towards the table, Booth reaches down and takes my hand. He does not let go the whole time he eats, choosing instead to alternate coffee and toast with his free arm while gently rubbing my pulse with the thumb that is wrapped around my wrist. Neither of us speaks and I find myself oddly comfortable in this quite moment with him. When we move to the living room and settle on the couch, his hand still clasping mine, he finally opens the conversation that I know we must have.

"So, obviously this means we are together," he begins with a question in his tone. I nod to show my concurrence with this observation and again for him to continue. "Which means we have to think about work and what it means to be together outside of work."

"I suppose we do," I agree. "Rationally speaking, I think we should just not tell anyone. This is our personal life right? I don't see any reason to share it with our professional colleagues."

"You know it doesn't work that way," he sighs.

"Why can't it? Logically, I won't love you any less if we are not partners and I won't worry any less about you. I would rather be the one who is there with you than having to trust someone else to be your partner." I am still amazed at how easily the word love is rolling off my tongue now that I have started saying it to him.

"But eventually, someone will find out."

"You're probably right, but we could just deal with that if and when it happens. I say for the time being, we just pretend that nothing has changed."

"You mean you want to lie to everyone," his tone is laced with amusement again.

"Not lie, exactly, just not tell," I tease back. "Besides, you lied to me to begin with so why not just go with the gush?"

"Go with the flow Bones, go with the flow" he laughingly corrects me. "And what do you mean that I lied to you??"

"You told me that nothing would change between us, but clearly it has."

"What are you talking about?? You mean what I said when we were skating that night??"

"Yes, you promised me that nothing would change but obviously that was just part of your plan to seduce me," I try to make my voice accusatory but don't really succeed.

"Seduce you? I seem to recall your willing participation in the seduction and its aftermath," his eyes are dancing as he enjoys the memory of the last 18 hours.

"Well, at any rate- I think this whole started with a lie, so there is no reason we cannot continue that given how successfully it has worked thusfar. Besides, if we keep things quiet for awhile, then if anyone does find out we will have had time to prove that we can still work together while also enjoying more, um, recreational activities together."

"So we would conduct a pre-emptive scientific experiment about this?" he attempts to sound serious about his question.

"Exactly."

"Well, if we are going to participate in recreational activities together," he is barely holding back his laughter, "I'll assume that I have been forgiven for this so-called lie that I told you?"

"I believe it is a case where the end justifies the means. And besides, it is the best kind of lie I've ever been told!"

Finally, neither of us can contain it anymore and we are both laughing out loud at the ridiculous conversation. I am not sure if we are overtired to the point of hysteria or just too joyous in the discovery of this new relationship, but everything just seems funny. At some point Booth starts to tickle me and I am running away from him, shrieking as he tries to corner me on the other side of the room. Somehow the chase leads us back to the bedroom and our apparently insatiable desire for each other overwhelms us again, but this time our exertions are filled with giggling and silliness. Never have I felt such pure pleasure and complete freedom in making love and as we fall asleep in each other's arms again I feel an overwhelming sense of happiness that Booth and I have found this feeling together.


	3. Chapter 3:Everything is Different

The Best Kind of Lie- Chapter 3

**Everything is Different…Nothing has Changed**

Booth and I agreed to keep our new relationship between the two of us, although we both suspected that it would not take long for someone to catch on. In fact, I was expecting Angela to tackle me almost immediately upon entering the lab on Monday morning, but she never did. Nobody seemed to notice anything different about Booth and I- and I wasn't sure if I was relieved or annoyed that it escaped everyone's expert powers of observation. I'll admit there was part of me that wanted Angela to figure it out so I could share some of these new emotions with a female friend, but it just didn't happen. And so, on the surface nothing changed.

The secret that Booth and I share sometimes makes me giggle in the middle of an exam on the platform. Standing there, surrounded by cold stainless steel and human remains, images come unbidden to my mind- Booth cooking breakfast, the two of us snuggled on the couch watching movies, some humourous conversation we had over dinner the night before- and I cannot stop the laughter that bubbles up in my throat. One day Cam regarded me with suspicion, but I think she was more concerned about my mental stability than aware of the shift that had occurred in my personal life. I suppose on the surface, nothing has really changed between Booth and me. He still rolls his eyes in frustration at my obstinate refusal to accept his 'gut' feeling about cases and I still raise my eyebrows at his unsubstantiated references to God. We still bicker and flirt in the same way we have since so early in our partnership. Even the way we look at each other is the same- well, maybe not the same, but only a more intense version of our previous optical conversations. I thought that was what might give us away, afraid that our eyes would reveal something between us that had not been there before. Our visual contact is still smoldering and I can still feel Booth's eyes burning into me even when I am not looking at him. The heat between us has not diminished- if anything, knowing what we can look forward to has only increased the tension between us. I suppose sometimes anticipation coupled with knowledge is a power force!

There is also a clandestine delight that Booth and I take in teasing each other- or perhaps tormenting each other is the better description- when we are with people from work. Sometimes I will lean a little too far over the table so that he has an unrestricted view of my cleavage and often he will place his hand a little lower on my back and exert some extra pressure so that I have no doubt of what is on his mind as we walk down the hallway together. It is a game we play and there seems to be no rules since last week he called me from the car when he knew I was in a meeting and said some very provocative (and imaginative) things to me, knowing that I would be helplessly trapped in a situation where I needed to retain my professionalism. It took me a few days to decide how to get him back for that, but when we had to attend a meeting with the Deputy Director of the FBI on the following Monday, I leaned close to him just before we entered his supervisor's office and made sure he knew exactly what I wanted to do with him once we got back to my place. I enjoyed watching him squirm uncomfortably in his chair the whole time we were in there. Never in my life had I been in a relationship that was marked with such playfulness and genuine affection- all of which I realize is rooted in the deepest level of trust I have ever shared with another person. I know that Booth and I have something very special and that is why part of me wishes I could tell people- or at least Angela. Sharing this type of joy about an intimate relationship is one of those female rites of passage that I did not really participate in and suddenly I find myself wishing I could.

One night, Booth and I are sitting at my dining room table working on some paperwork that is due the next day. Distracted by the frown of concentration on his face, which I find inexplicably attractive, I am watching him instead of signing off on my sections of the report. After a moment, he puts down his pen and lifts his eyes to mine.

"Why are you staring at me Bones?" there is amusement in his voice.

"I was just wondering about something."

"What were you wondering about?"

"When did you know that you were in love with me?"

"When did I know I _could_ fall in love with you, or when did I realize that I already was??" Booth seeks clarification. "Because those are actually different answers."

"Both then," I am curious to hear the timing of each event.

"Alright- I knew that I could definitely fall in love with you after that first time we dealt with Howard Epps." He pauses and allows me to register that this moment was in the first year of our partnership. "After that case, when you and I were at Wong Fu's and you talked about how it should never be easy to take someone's life- it was then. I knew at that moment that there was more to you then most people realized and I could see that you might understand me in a way that no one else ever had. I felt the beginnings of a connection right there."

The moment he has described replays in my mind and the details remain vivid even after so many days have passed. Booth is right- even then we were connected to each other in some mysterious and powerful way that we would not fully realize until much later in our partnership. Looking back, I can understand why that was important to him. His previous career as a sniper has made him highly sensitive to the value of human life and my statement that night after our first encounter with Epps would have held a great deal of meaning to him. Of course, I did not know that at the time, but knowing what I know now makes the impact of that moment we shared much clearer.

"As for when I knew that I was defenseless against my feelings for you," Booth continues, "that was at your father's trial. When I looked at you and had to answer the question about whether you had time to kill Kirby, it all came into focus for me. I answered that question knowing in my heart that you were the love of my life- because I didn't even resent what you were asking me to do. I understood it and although it was devastating to think about you being capable to that crime, I could still look into your eyes and see the person I was so in love with."

The room is silent around us except for the ticking of the clock above my mantle. Suddenly, it seems difficult to make eye contact with Booth and I find myself staring down at the paperwork on the table. It is only when the writing on the pages becomes blurry that I realize I have started to cry. Never before have I known the power of having someone identify a specific moment when they recognized the love in their heart. I am not sure I can even find an exact point of reference for when I knew I loved Booth- it was such an organic and foreign process for me that I never truly knew it was happening until it was already completed. Booth does not ask me to respond to his declaration. Instead he leans across the table and places a kiss on the top of my head before returning his attention to the reports. Eventually, I am able to do the same, but not without thinking that I am not sure how much longer I want to conceal my relationship with Booth. Reflecting on how things have developed between us and how far we have come to find each other, I am really beginning to believe that we should be celebrating the connection we have forged instead of hiding it. It is starting to feel like a betrayal of our feelings for one another to remain covert.

That inkling sense of betrayal was clarified days later while I was sitting in my office one day responding to some emails. The radio was on and the lead news story was about an FBI agent who had been killed during a seemingly routine operation. My heart stopped and I was completely motionless for the 30 seconds it took for the announcer to say the agent's name. It wasn't Booth and relief washed over me- and then I felt a little guilty for not caring that someone had died because all that mattered to me was that Booth was safe. Anthropologically, it is natural to care more about the safety of those closest to you, but it still feels a bit shameful to disregard someone else's tragedy. After taking a second to gather my thoughts, I called Booth. His voice was shaded with the obvious strain of the events I had just heard on the news and the sounds of chaos leaked through his phone from the background. Knowing he was busy, I kept our conversation short and simply asked him if he was coming to my apartment after work. He indicated that he would late because of the day's events, but I insisted that he come see me whenever he was done because I knew that it was time to change the way we were approaching our life together.

It was almost 2:00 a.m. when I heard Booth's key in the door. Despite the late hour, I was awake and I continued to sit in the darkness as he crossed the room to sit beside me. As soon as he sat down, Booth turned to me and pulled me into his arms. The feel of fatigue seeped out of his muscles and he sighed tiredly against my neck. We held each other for several minutes before Booth pulled back to kiss me softly. When he broke the contact of our lips, I pressed my forehead against his and told him what I'd been waiting to say since I called him earlier in the day.

"I think it is time for us to be honest with the rest of the world about how much we love each other." Booth did not reply verbally, he only smiled at me and nodded his head. As usual, he understood exactly what I meant and why I had made the decision. Watching him, I realized that he had just been playing along with my need for secrecy, but he had been ready from the first instant of our intimacy to tell anyone who asked that he loves me. In a typical pattern of our time together, he had merely been biding his time until my heart caught up with his. We did not exchange any more words, I merely snuggled closer to him and we both drifted off to sleep for the few hours that were left before dawn.

The next day, we did not make any monumental announcements to our colleagues, but we stopped hiding our affectionate exchanges. When Booth departed from the lab in the afternoon to return to his office, I walked with him towards the exit doors. He smiled down at me as if to ask for permission and, seeing the agreement in my eyes, he bent his head down to kiss me. Just as we pulled apart, I heard Angela gasp and Hodgins start laughing. I smiled broadly at Booth and wrapped my arms around his neck. It had been fun to live in on our own private lie for awhile, but I knew it was going to be even better living the truth.


End file.
